


Battle Drabbles

by lferion



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle, Double Drabble, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Gen, Inspired by Real Events, Introspection, Maps, Plague, naps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion/pseuds/lferion
Summary: Fingon considers several aspects of battle -- maps, naps, and some time later, a battle that Men fight that Elves do not.
Kudos: 13
Collections: Drabbling in Middle-Earth





	1. Battle Map, Battle Nap

**Author's Note:**

> The first two drabbles were inspired by this comment thread on [Dreamwidth](https://rydra-wong.dreamwidth.org/719192.html?thread=9128024#cmt9128024).
> 
> The third piece was inspired by current events.
> 
> Many thanks to Morgynleri for encouragement and sanity checking.

* * *

Once, he would have taken pride in the precision and beauty of his cartography, the drawing and calligraphy. Now, clarity and reproducibility were uppermost in mind: the ability of others to accurately capture the essential information on indifferent materials, with hands that may or might not be steady: with an arrow point on birchbark, a sturdy twig and damp ground, spit and stone and fingertips. The purpose of a battle map was the information it contained and conveyed, not the artifact. Where, whence, when, who. The artifact might be interesting, but it was secondary to the point, to the purpose.

* * *

Once, he would have thought napping a frivolous luxury, an indulgence for a grown Elf, the sort of thing one did with one's new-married partner or very young child. Partaken of after completing a project that had consumed all hours of several days. Of course that assumed there was no lack of hours in which to properly rest. Now he knew that assumption for the ignorant folly it was. The Ice had taught him to snatch sleep in moments, attended by one awake. Beleriand and battle had only reinforced the lesson. Nap and watch in turns; face the battle fresh.

* * *


	2. An Unequal Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fights are inherently unequal

* * *

Once, he would have thought that a battle was a thing fought in a place planned or otherwise, with armies of people, weapons and armor, steel and strength, banners snapping in the wind, light glittering on edges. Defending, attacking, taking blows and giving them, advancing and retreating, taking advantage of terrain, of one's knowledge of the foe. Never assured of victory, no, but knowing what it took to achieve it. Now he knew he understood nothing at all of some kinds of battle. Elves could be poisoned, wounded, twisted into things far other than they should have been, but this! 

This pestilence, disease, the invasion of the flesh by tiny motes of voracious, mindless ill, that Men suffered and fought — some lightly, easily , some gravely, some drowning, burning, suffocating, dying from the assault, a fight they could not win no matter their valor, their skill, their desire to live — the Elves, high or light or green or dark, of any kindred or age, did not know, were not subject. A battle he could not fight as they fought. Could not win for them. But that did not mean he could not aid them in the battle as best he might.

* * *


End file.
